


Our Feet Won't Touch The Ground

by Angryangryowl



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Art, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kisses, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 13:40:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9443561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angryangryowl/pseuds/Angryangryowl
Summary: Matt’s never really ‘gotten’ the art exhibitions Techie takes him too. There's a vague stirring of something with the pictures. He feels like he should understand, like he should be as rapt as Techie is, his great, sore blue eyes wide and starry in admiration. But he goes along just the same, because seeing Techie like that is enough.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MoonwalkingCrab](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonwalkingCrab/gifts).



‘I don't think you're supposed to step on it’

 

Matt eyes the edge of the floor warily. They stand at the entrance of the darkened room,  the scuffed toe of Techie’s shoe on the edge of the brightly-lit tiles. The tiles shift through a spectrum of pastel colours, seeming to ripple across the whole floor within the room. 

 

‘We could look? Blame me if we’re not supposed to, I can take it.’ Techie grins back at him, conspiratorially.

 

‘Oh really?’ Matt raises an eyebrow, taking his boyfriend’s hand. Something about that smile, h knows he’s already a goner. He’d follow Techie into hell because of that smile.

 

‘I want to see the stars..’

 

The whole room is curtained with endless strings of newspaper stars, chattering softly in each huff of breeze, inviting them into the eerie glow of the interior. There's no telling what's in the centre of the darkened room from here.

 

Techie runs his hand over the first few strands, brushing the soft, whispery edges of the newsprint with his fingers. There's music inside the room, long, low guitar notes. More peaceful than mournful. He glances back at Matt. 

 

Matt’s never really ‘gotten’ the art exhibitions Techie takes him too. There's a vague stirring of something with the pictures. He feels like he should understand, like he should be as rapt as Techie is, his great, sore blue eyes wide and starry in admiration. But he goes along just the same, because seeing Techie like that is enough.

 

He nods and squeezes Techie’s hand, and Techie leads him through the curtain of stars, and into the shifting pink-blue-green light.

 

The walls are mirrored, so it's almost impossible to tell how big the room is. Towards the centre, the strings of stars give way to curtains of rainbow beads, all suspended at different heights. It's almost like walking in light rain, the soft, cold  _ pop _ of the beads against his skin, the gentle skittering noise as the beads knock together behind them.

 

The music swells the closer they get to the centre, the steady rock of a lazy baseline joining soaring guitar, and when they break through the last curtain of beads, a triumphant clash of cymbals. 

 

There's a single gold circle in the centre of the floor, where the ripples of colour seem to start. Techie pulls Matt onto it, into his arms.

 

Matt’s face looks even paler, lit from beneath, pretty washes of tropical-sea-blue, sunshine yellow and baby pink over his chin. And he's smiling. That dopey smile he gets when he sees Techie happy. Hopelessly in love.

 

Techie kisses him, his arms slipping around Matt's waist beneath his jacket. It's gentle, tentative. 

 

‘Dance with me.’ 

 

Matt's arm is around his back, they're almost too close to move. But they rock together, kissing lazily through the last few peaceful, promising notes of the song.

 

It's comforting, hopeful even. Like sunlight and ivy creeping through the halls of a crumbling building. 

 

Techie doesn't know how long they stay. It hurts to go back to the too-bright lights and white walls of the gallery. 

 

Thankfully, with an arm still around his waist, Matt guides him steadily to the exit, into the night, and home.


End file.
